


Actions Speak Louder Than Words

by DarylsBabyGirl



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blizzards, Bottom Paul, Christmas fic, Crying, Depression, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Self Esteem issues mentioned, Top Daryl, Tumblr Prompt, Winter, amputated arm, pregnancy mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 05:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13093623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarylsBabyGirl/pseuds/DarylsBabyGirl
Summary: Tumblr prompt! Anon wanted making love in front of the fire place! Here it is, lovely! It... uh... it turned out a lot emotionally deeper than I thought it would...





	Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Paul stood on the front porch of the Grimes' residence, hands in front of his mouth and huffing warm air onto his chilled fingers. The snow had started coming down very hard a few hours ago, three feet already covering the ground, nearly reaching the porch where he stood. He was wearing only a sweater and Daryl's leather jacket. The sun had long since gone down, leaving gray clouds and heavy wind. His jeans were getting wet from the snow, hair sticking to his face and neck. The door opened behind him and Michonne stepped out. 

“Jesus, you should really come inside. You're going to get sick... Daryl wouldn't want that.” She said, hugging herself and rubbing her arms to generate heat as she walked up to him. 

Paul swallowed thickly, looking back toward the gate. He was shivering, so he welcomed the hug she gave him. They huddled together, both watching the gate now. They could hardly see it through the heavy snowfall, but they both knew it was there. “... He and Rick should've been back by now.” He whispered, voice shaking with fear and cold. “They're a day late... we promised to spend Christmas together today.”

Michonne nuzzled into his shoulder, fingers gripping the back of his jacket. “I know...” She whispered back. “They're probably huddled in a cabin somewhere.”

“... Then we should go find them.”

“We can't. You know we can't. Someone has to stay and watch the community... besides, it's practically a white out.” She rubbed his back, gently steering him away from the porch and inside. “Come on...” She led him inside and she the door to keep the cold out. She helped him get his jacket off and bent to take his boots off for him. “Sit in front of the fire, I'll get you some coffee.”

Paul sighed and walked into the den and sat in front of the fire, letting the heat melt the snow and ice from his hair. Carl was asleep on the couch with Judy. The Christmas Tree was still lit, with wrapped presents waiting to be opened sitting underneath and the smell of pine filling the room. Daryl had helped Rick find it and drag it into the community several weeks ago. They had one in their house as well, with presents they'd gotten for each other. He sighed, longing to be back home with Daryl and reading with him in front of their fire. Michonne soon sat next to him, handing him a cup of hot coffee. He thanked her softly and took a careful sip. They sat in silence for a while, watching the fire and listening to Judy's soft snores. 

“... They'll be back, Jesus...” She whispered suddenly. Paul could hear the fear in her voice, however. He knew she was just as scared as he was. He nodded quietly, looking down into his coffee. “I know it was supposed to be a short run... that they probably shouldn't have done it. Judy needed clothes desperately.”

“I know...” Paul whispered back. “I'm just... so worried. It started snowing as soon as they left... and it wasn't sticking, but then temperatures dropped. The car they took wasn't the best.”

Michonne looked over at him. “This is Rick and Daryl... they're a great team... brothers... they'll have each others back and won't let anything stop them from getting home to us. Even if they have to walk the rest of the way.” She put a hand on his shoulder, her hand shaking. She spoke confidently, but her eyes showed her insecurity. 

Paul stared into the woman's eyes, his own eyes reflecting her emotions. He looked back into the fire, taking another slow sip of the coffee. “... Did I tell you about how he confessed to me?” He needed something to distract him, to calm himself. She smiled and shook her head. He swallowed thickly, grinning a bit giddily. “It was during a run... the one where we went looking for blankets and jackets to prepare for winter. The building we were in was quiet, and that made him paranoid. So he was tense the entire time we were looting the place. I'd been... a bit emotionally compromised... I'd loved him for so long, but he'd never shown any interest, so I was starting to give up. I wasn't paying attention and opened the door to the back storage room without listening and this huge walker stumbled into me.” He gripped his mug tighter, the memories of that time he'd almost been bit... how Daryl had taken the bite for him. 

“I fell to the floor and hit my head pretty hard... the walker leaned down to bite into my shoulder... I thought it had gotten me, but then I hard Daryl screaming in pain and the walker was suddenly gone. I finally got my vision corrected and looked to my left to see Daryl kneeling on the walker, his knife in the walker's had and a big bite on his forearm.” Paul teared up. “I was... I was furious with myself and with Daryl, at the walker... I couldn't think... Daryl just grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me close, shoving an ax into my hands and telling me to cut his arm off.”

Michonne was tearing up herself. She'd known Daryl had gotten bit, but neither Paul or the hunter had been willing to tell anyone how. “... What happened?”

“He looked me in the eye and said 'I love you, I don't wanna die without knowin what's it like to be with you... Paul, please... cut it off so I can at least have some chance of surviving and being with you.' Probably the most romantic confession I've ever gotten.” Paul chuckled wetly, bringing his wrist up to his eyes and wiping the tears away with his sleeve. “Cutting his arm off was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I searched for months to find him a prosthetic limb.”

Michonne nodded. She remembered that day. Eugene rushing to open the gate and Paul barely getting the car in park before jumping out and running around the front of the car, yelling for Denise and Rick... anyone... to help him with Daryl. Everyone had been shocked to see the scout pulling the hunter out of the car, his left forearm missing, pale and clammy from blood loss, barely conscious. Rick had been furious with Paul, screaming at him to explain what happened. If it hadn't been for Daryl telling Rick to leave the scout alone, Paul may have been beat to death by the leader. They'd managed to find a good prosthetic limb for Daryl... getting Daryl to use it was another issue all its own. 

Paul had taken it on himself to nurse Daryl back to health, to convince him to use the prosthetic arm. Rick had walked in on them the first time Paul had gotten the arm on Daryl. They hadn't seen him, but he'd watched Paul break down in tears, leaning over and pressing his forehead against the limb. Daryl had gathered the scout close, whispering to him and kissing him, trying to console him. Paul had never forgiven himself, will never forgive himself. Daryl was in so much more danger now that he had loss the use of one arm. A prosthetic limb can only do so much. 

“I'm happy we're together, I really am... I just... I wish it had happened differently. I always had this fantasy that he would pin me to a wall when my teasing got too much... or maybe he would just walk into my trailer and give me that look he gives me sometimes... that look that says everything he's feeling and we would just fall into bed.” Paul cleared his throat, swallowing the lump growing thicker with every word he spoke. “... And I haven't even told him I love him, yet.”

Michonne sniffled a bit, scooting closer. “He's gonna come home, Paul. Rick isn't gonna let anything happen to him.” She whispered. The wind whistled and they both shivered, huddling closer together. “... I'm pregnant and I haven't told Rick, yet.” Paul looked at her and she shook her head. “... I know what happened to Judy's mother... and I know Rick's going to be terrified of losing me. So... I'm waiting until the time is right.” 

The scout nodded in understanding. Daryl had told him about Rick's wife as well. They both went silent again, eyes turned back to the fire. It was starting to die, so Paul got up and added a couple logs to it. He looked up when he heard another louder whistle. He looked over his shoulder at Michonne. “Did you hear that?”

“... I don't think that was the wind.” She said and put her mug aside. She stood up and walked to the window, looking outside. She squinted, seeing two figures walking toward the house. “Paul! Paul, they're home!” 

Paul turned to her, dropping the poker he was holding. He followed her to the front door where she yanked it open just as Rick and Daryl were walking up the side walk. She stepped out on the porch while Paul shot past her, nearly flying down the front steps. He was hardly dressed for such a powerful blizzard, but he didn't care. He launched himself into Daryl's arms. The hunter caught him easily, arm and stump coming up to hug him close and lift him off the ground. Paul sobbed, kissing across Daryl's cheek and nuzzling into his chilled neck. 

“Jesus fuck, Paul! Ya tryin ta get sick?” Daryl growled, taking in Paul's lack of jacket, shoes and gloves. “Wrap yer damn legs 'round me 'fore ya get frostbite.” 

Rick chuckled, watching Paul's legs wrap around Daryl's hips carefully. He picked up the bag that Daryl had dropped when Paul had ran at him. “Come on, love birds.” He shoulder Daryl's bag and walked up the front steps. 

Michonne smiled up at him tearfully and they kissed softly. She led the both inside, a bit of snow blowing in on the wind. She shut and locked the door. Daryl let Jesus down, but the scout didn't release him. She shook her head at them and moved to help Rick remove all his layers. Carl walked into the foyer, holding a sleepy Judy. Judy gave a sleepy wave and willingly went to Rick's arms when he picked her up. She nuzzled against his shoulder, mumbling a soft 'Papa.' Carl welcomed Rick home with a hug and a soft smile. Paul finally moved back a bit to help Daryl out of his iced over jacket and coveralls. His boots thud to the floor, snow melting rapidly. They all moved into the den and took seats. Rick showed them what he and Daryl had found. Daryl pulled Paul's feet into his lap, gently massaging them with his hand to work some heat into the cold skin. 

They opened presents and had a late meal. Rick and Daryl told their family how the truck had died half way home and they had tried to fix it, but it had started getting dark and the snow was falling heavier, so they'd walked the rest of the way. They hadn't encountered any walkers or other survivors. So, it'd been a rather boring walk. A long walk, but a boring one nonetheless. Paul was quiet during their time with the Grimes. He mostly watched Daryl. The hunter seemed rather calm, and much more affectionate with Paul. He usually didn't touch Paul when they were around his family or strangers at Hilltop or the Kingdom. Yet, here he was, massaging Paul's feet, running his fingers under the scout's pants to pet his legs and even leaning in to kiss him softly.

A few hours later, Rick was following them to the door. “Ya'll sure you don't wanna just stay the night? The snow's comin down pretty heavy.”

Daryl turned to Rick, zipping up his coveralls and making sure Paul put shoes on this time. “Nah... it's just across the street. Kinda... kinda wanna be alone with him.”

Paul blushed at the insinuation in Daryl's voice. He cleared his throat, pulling his beanie on and then Daryl's leather jacket. Rick just nodded in understanding and the two hugged. He shook hands with Paul, giving the scout a look, like he finally knew just how Daryl had gotten bit. Paul lowered his gaze and followed Daryl out the door with the bag of things Daryl had found for them and their presents. It was a long walk across the street, but they made it into their house in no time. It was cold inside. The house had been empty most of the day. Daryl immediately started a fire in the fire place. They took their layers off and curled up under blankets to wait for the house to heat up before they opened the presents they'd gotten each other. 

Daryl's fingers pet through Paul's hair, pushing loose strands away from his face. “... S'goin on, baby?” The hunter rasped softly. “Ya been quiet all night. Miss yer voice.”

Paul glanced up into the hunter's blue eyes, breath caught in his throat. “... I just... I realized tonight... I've never told you how I feel.”

Daryl's eyes narrowed, a bit nervous where this conversation might be heading. “Feel about what?”

“... About you.” The scout licked his lips, fingers playing with a loose thread in the blanket they were cuddled together under. “You're always telling me you love me and how you like my hair and eyes and voice... but I've never... I've never reciprocated. Ever since you...” he teared up, voice choking “took that bite for me... told me you wanted to be with me and begged me to cut your arm off... I've never had the courage to tell you how much I...” The words got caught in his throat. He was terrified to actually say them. Saying them made them real, and making them real meant it would hurt all the more when Daryl does die. He could feel Daryl's eyes on him, intense and observant. 

“Paul... ya don't have ta tell me.” Daryl whispered, hand cupping the back of Paul's neck and gently pulling him closer. Paul sobbed against his neck, gripping the front of his shirt. “I know ya love me... I can see it when ya look at me... I can feel it when ya touch me... it's in all the little things ya do fer me. Kissin me awake in the mornin, smilin at me over every meal we share, kissin me good night, makin love ta me in our bed... I knew ya loved me when ya cut my arm off and nursed me back ta health. I knew ya loved me when ya searched for hard and so long ta find me an arm, 'n then convinced me ta use it.” He gently tipped Paul's face up, kissing him gently. “Ya don't have ta say it... cause ya show it. Actions speak louder than words sometimes, Paul. I only say it so much cause I don't know how ta show it. I ain't never been in a serious relationship like this. I know ya need ta hear it... so I say it.”

Paul swallowed thickly and sniffled. He laid his head back against Daryl's shoulder, staring at the stump arm Daryl had resting on the arm of the couch they were curled up on. He reached toward it, running his fingers gently across the scarred skin, smiling at the goosebumps that rose up from his touch. Daryl pressed a kiss to his hair. He never let anyone touch it, only Paul and Denise when she does her check ups. For the longest time, Daryl had been disgusted with himself. His self esteem took a major hit from the loss of the limb. It was hard to work on cars or use a rifle with one one hand. He couldn't use the crossbow anymore. It had made a home above their mantle, gathering dust. It had been a struggle for Paul to see the normally active hunter hardly leave the house. Daryl hid himself away until he saw how it was affecting the scout. Their relationship had such a rocky start. They fought, there was long silences, Paul often had to walk out to gain back control of his emotions... but he always came back. They would sit together in silence, unspoken apologies and forgiveness in their eyes as they stared at each other. 

The silence last for almost a week. They were going through the motions. Wake up, eat, do some chores, go to Denise for a check up, go home, eat and sleep. The silence was broken when a walker herd got into the community. Someone had opened the gate to let them in. Everyone had joined together to protect their homes. Daryl and Jesus had gotten separated, and the scout had been frantic searching for the hunter. He screamed the hunter's name, eyes searching every face he saw, dead and alive. He finally found him near the lake, struggling against a walker on top of him. The scout had run forward, sinking his knife into the back of the walker's head and yanking him off. Daryl had stared up at him, eyes brighter than they'd been in months. 

An unspoken agreement to talk later passed between them. It was nearly day break before they'd killed all the walkers. Their work wasn't done, however. There was still walker bodies to be burned, their dead to be buried and an investigation to be conducted. It was days before they were able to speak in private. They had a very long conversation about how each of them was feeling. Paul's guilt over Daryl being bit because of his carelessness. Daryl's low self esteem and how he felt worthless and helpless. They kissed softly that night, whispering reassurances that they would help each other, their relationship taking a turn to something deeper and more romantic. The next day, Paul had put the prosthetic arm on him, and they both cried. 

They kissed again, lips melding together sensually. Paul's fingers gently and slowly unbuttoned the hunter's shirt, petting the warm skin beneath, passing over a nipple and smiling shyly at Daryl's soft intake of breath. His fingers stroked up to the hunter's jaw, palm tingling at the stubble prickling him. The fire crackled behind him as he moved to straddle Daryl's lap. Paul's sweater was removed, the t-shirt underneath coming off with it. Daryl's hand stroked up and down his side, moaning softly into the kiss. Paul helped him with their jeans, nearly toppling over out of the hunter's lap. Daryl chuckled, smiling up at him. 

Paul smiled back, leaning down to kiss him. “This might be easier on the floor... I might just fall and bust a hip or something.” 

“Ya ain't that old... I'd be more worried bout me...” Daryl snorted and stood. 

Paul spread the blanket out and laid Daryl down on it. They were fairly close to the fireplace, so it was nice and warm. He straddled the hunter again, sighing as their bare skin met. He moaned, grinding their hard cocks together. He stroked his hands up Daryl's chest, leaning down to kiss him deeply. Daryl groaned into the kiss, hand gripping Paul's thigh. He'd love to be able to just roll them over and ravish the man, but he loved watching Paul ride him even more. Watching Paul prepare himself and then slide down on him was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. 

Paul took his time, worshiping the hunter's body with his hands and lips, leaving little love bites in his wake. Daryl's fingers gripped his hair as he swallowed his cock down, moaning at the taste and at his fingers in himself. Daryl's eyes were intense and predatorial when he looked up at him. When he felt he was sufficiently ready, he sat up and licked his lips. Daryl pulled him down into a kiss, chasing the precum in the scout's mouth with his tongue. They both groaned as Paul slid down on the hunter, panting into each others mouths and eyes holding gazes steadily. 

Daryl rocked his hips carefully, feet planted firmly on the floor. He kept his hand in Paul's hair, keeping him close. Paul's hands gripped the blanket on either side of Daryl's head, the pleasure mounting higher and higher with every thrust against his prostate. His moans came out faster and higher as his thighs trembled, gripping Daryl's sides tighter. Daryl was silent, but Paul knew he was close. He could feel it in Daryl's hips as their pace grew erratic and the hand in his hair tightened almost to the point of painful. 

“I love you...” Daryl rasped, bringing Paul closer. 

Paul whined, burying his face in Daryl's neck as he felt the hunter's cock twitch with his release. He bit down into the hunter's shoulder, his own orgasm rocking his body. He moaned, hips losing their rhythm as his cock twitched one last dribble of cum onto Daryl's stomach. They sighed together, nuzzling and smiling. Paul chuckled, wiping the saliva off the hunter's shoulder, murmuring an apology for biting down so hard. The hunter shrugged, teasing Paul for trying to claim him. They cleaned up and redressed. Paul got them both a glass of wine and they sipped as they opened their presents. 

Their bed was cold when they climbed in, immediately huddling together for warmth. They kissed softly, fingers stroking and legs tangling together. Paul nuzzled against Daryl's neck, sighing at the warmth he found there. He felt a kiss against the top of his head and Daryl whisper how much he loved him. Paul bit his bottom lip, heart racing and chest aching. He leaned back a bit, looking up into Daryl's eyes. 

“... I love you, Daryl...” He whispered, fingers reaching up to pet the hunter's cheek. The words felt right, and they felt real. He smiled. “I love you... I love you so much...” He leaned up, kissing Daryl deeply. He felt so good saying them finally. He kissed across the hunter's cheek, whispering how much he loved Daryl and how happy he was and he proud he was of them both for getting this far. 

It was terrifying to think how either of them could die any day. Paul could fall sick. Daryl could lose another limb, only he wouldn't make it. Other survivors could attack and shoot them both. Walkers could overwhelm them. However, it wasn't the time that they would lose to death that Paul should be thinking about. It was the time that they could have together that he should be enjoying and reveling in. Daryl had been that all this time, and it was high time Paul joined him.


End file.
